Green Weyr
by australis-angel
Summary: What happens to girls who impress greens, back when girls only rode queens?
1. Chapter 1

_Many, many thanks to AMC for allowing me to play a little with her world. Of course, she absolutely owns all rights to it! _

_Prologue_

The great gold queen blinked out of between at dusk above the star stones. She drifted down on silent wings to land next to her bronze mate on the weyr rim. Down below, the Weyrleader and his Weyrwoman watched her arrival, otherwise unheeded in the celebrations following that afternoon's hatching.

"How many this time?" he asked his weyrmate.

"Just one" she replied, leaning into him, away from the cool evening breeze.

He sighed, embracing her gently and tilting his head to rest his cheek on her hair.

"Why do they do it?" he asked, even as he wondered the point of asking such a rhetorical question.

She leaned away from him, to gaze briefly into his eyes. They both knew why. Girls only rode queens…

_A/N: I'm so pleased I've finally come up with an original idea! Now, I know my general story writing is less than ordinary, so any feedback is greatly welcome Not so much for this chapter, but definitely for subsequent ones!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Anne McCaffrey owns Dragonriders of Pern. I don't. And I am ever so grateful to be able to play here!_

In the cool, crisp dawn that heralded a new day, Serra dressed quickly and neatly and hurried through the weyr bowl as the burnished pink of sunrise lit the weyr rim. She wanted to be alone, to gaze upon the eggs that lay with the great gold queen on the hatching sands. No gold egg lay on the sands, and the clutch was small, which was to be expected in an interval. But the chosen candidates were a raucous lot, and she didn't feel comfortable being around them, or mingling with them, when they came to view the eggs every day after breakfast.

From the edge of the sands, Serra gazed over the eggs, and the protective bulk of their mother encircling them like a crescent moon. The rainbow of shells were a harmonious hue against the white sands and golden queen.

"It mustn't be long now" she thought to herself, having overheard the dragonriders talking about an imminent hatching. The eggs had been growing harder, and, while she had visited every day since they had been laid, she had not the courage to stroke one. The queen opened one eye to observe her visitor, reassuring Serra that the queen knew she was no threat to her eggs.

_Will you come later today, child?_

Serra jumped at the sound of the queen's voice in her mind. Bowing deeply to the queen she replied "If you wish me to, O Great One." The queen shut her eye again, pleased with the respect that the girl had shown. Quite unlike some of the boys, who would have protested that, at seventeen, they were no longer children!

A moment longer spent gazing across the sands, then Serra shook herself and returned across the bowl to the kitchens. As she scooped up some bread and fruit for breakfast, the head cook saw her and called out to her.

"Serra, can you check the tubers and fruits in storage today? And bring back the items on the chalkboard before the midday meal?"

"Sure thing" she replied, secretly relieved she wasn't to be on peeling duty.

"Thanks sweetie" replied the cook, before bustling off to retrieve another tray of bread from the ovens, pausing to check the level of klah in the warming pot on her way past.

Making her way into the kitchen, she scanned her duty list, and retrieved a clean apron from the freshly laundered pile for general use. The cool storage caverns were home to a vast number of crates of tubers and fruits, all carefully stored to supply the weyr until the following summer would mean fresh supplies from the tithes. Uncovering a glow, she set to work.

Feeling cold, after several hours of work, she took the items on the list back to the head cook, then continued on to her shared quarters to retrieve her warmest clothes and boots. Working quickly she layered them on, replaced her apron and headed back through the kitchen. She paused briefly to grab a roll with leafy greens and a sweetcake. The cook saw her, and smiled at her.

"You have time to stop for lunch if you want, Serra."

Serra shook her head. "I'm hoping to get out a little this afternoon" she said.

"Planning on sneaking in to watch the hatching, are you?" smiled the cook. "I'm glad there are no gold eggs, for good help is hard to come by, and I'd hate to lose you."

"You'd not lose me" smiled Serra.

"All the same," said the cook, "I'm glad. Although you would be just young enough to still stand if there is a gold egg in the next clutch in a few years' time."

Serra laughed. "You worry too much!" And with that, the older woman patted the younger on the cheek and sent her on her way.

Unpack. Check for ripeness and soundness. Repack. It was repetitive, but pleasant. Well, except for the rotten tomato that had looked to be fine when she went to pick it up, right before it exploded with the light pressure of her fingers, spattering her apron, the surrounding fruit and the bench. Deftly she wiped up the mess, carefully drying the remaining fruit and repacking them before heading back to the kitchen to wash her hands and change her apron. She glanced out at the sun, and decided to visit the eggs again. It wasn't what she would normally do, but the great queen had asked! She skirted the candidates, who were learning about cleaning dragon teeth from the Weyrlingmaster, and entered the Hatching Cavern. She moved around the edge of the sands, finding a cool outcropping of rock just below the first dragon tier. It was so hot! She stripped off her warm jacket, and sat to gaze again over the beautiful eggs from much closer now. The queen rose to her feet with a sinuous stretch, and turned her multi-faceted eyes on Serra.

_Stay_ said the queen, firmly, lifting her muzzle and calling out high notes. 'No, crooning,' amended Serra in her mind. 'Wait! Crooning? Shards, the hatching is starting!'

_Stay_ repeated the queen. 'Oh shells, oh shards! How am I going to explain being here?' thought Serra.

The Weyrleader and the Weyrwoman came gliding in on his huge bronze.

"Looks like someone already has the best seat in the house" he joked, as he slid off the bronze neck. He deftly helped the Weyrwoman down from her seat.

"I'm so sorry Weyrleader, where would you like me to go?"

"You can stay there, young lady. I would say that this would be the first hatching you'll get a decent view of. You were too young last time?"

"Yes Weyrleader. I was only eleven. Too small yet to see over the top of other people."

"Ah well. Enjoy this one. Hatchings are always beautiful to watch." He smiled up at his bronze, who had meanwhile flown over to the bronze's tier.

A beautiful mid-blue dragonet was the first to hatch, and he ran straight for a young lad around fourteen turns.

"Such a shame the first's a blue" someone in the stands said.

The newly impressed rider turned around quickly, marking the older rider in the tiers.

"Chath is more perfect than any sharding bronze" he growled.

The older rider looked at him, and then burst out laughing. "That he is."

Chath made his rider aware of just how _hungry_ he was, and the pair left the sands at the head of a growing line of newly impressed pairs to get food.

All too soon it was over, and one egg remained on the sands alone. The remaining hopeful candidates stood near it, until the hot sands just became too much for them, and weary from all the excitement, they left one by one. Sensing the show was over, the dragonriders who hadn't left already to congratulate the new riders drifted off with their dragons to go about their business. The Weyrleader and Weyrwoman were already congratulating the new riders and leading a rousing toast. Serra was the last in the Hatching Cavern with the golden queen, and she stood to leave too.

_Stay yet a moment_

"Beautiful queen, I need to get back to work" she replied.

_This one is yours_ said the queen, as the last remaining egg began to rock.

"How..how do you know? I thought dragons chose for themselves?"

The egg cracked from top to bottom in one sharp, jagged movement. The little wet dragon spilled out onto the sands before gazing up at Serra with her heart-stoppingly beautiful rainbow regard.

_I've been calling you_ she said simply. _My name is Kelth_.


	3. Chapter 3

_Dragonriders of Pern is owned by Anne McCaffrey. I am so grateful to her that I can share my story in her world._

Serra stood, lost in the loving gaze of Kelth, that mental communion that only dragonriders know. Kelth bumped her with her snout on Serra's chest, and Serra shook herself with a start. Looking at a plaintively hungry Kelth, she saw, as if for the first time, a soft emerald green dragonet.

'What have I done' thought Serra.

_You Impressed me_ said Kelth.

Serra laughed gently at first, then it started developing a hysterical edge.

_What's wrong?_ said Kelth, _You are my rider_. Her eyes started whirling orange with worry. _Why is it wrong that we are together?_

"Oh Kelth" said Serra, throwing her arms around her green neck and sobbing into her hide. "We're not supposed to BE. Girls only ride gold dragons. Boys ride greens."

_We are together_ stated Kelth_. What can anyone do? I'm hungry._

Serra hugged her tighter. "I..I don't know. There was a girl, two hatchings ago my mother tells me, she..she was never seen again after the hatching."

_I need food. Now. We can talk after._

"I'm so sorry Kelth. Let's fix that, shall we." And with her arm draped over Kelth's neck, Serra led the little dragonet towards the entrance to the Hatching Cavern.

Not yet twenty paces from the entrance, a figure appeared, a shadow limned by the bright glow of the afternoon sun. A few steps in, resolved the shadow into the Weyrwoman, carrying a large pail of chopped meat.

"Here, this is for your dragonet. Please, give it to her here."

Kelth bounced the last few steps and Serra had to jump to reach the bucket before Kelth stuck her snout straight in. All too soon the meat was gone, and Kelth pushed up against Serra before settling down against her legs.

"Don't sleep here, love" said Serra. The weyrwoman smiled sadly, hugging her arms to her body. Serra was immediately on the alert.

"What's wrong Weyrwoman? What's going to happen to me? Us?" she amended.

"You can't stay here. My queen will take you. It's..better your dragonet is asleep" the Weyrwoman wouldn't meet Serra's eyes.

All the imagined fears flashed through Serra's head, and she absently captured a lock of her dark hair and started to gnaw on it.

"You've time to get some things" the Weyrwoman continued. " A quarter of a candlemark, before I must return to the festivities. I'll stay with your dragonet. You'll need clothes, toiletries and don't forget several pairs of shoes, and a couple of blankets. You can roll everything up in one blanket, and secure it with two belts. It will be easier to carry."

Serra's mind was whirling. Carrying all her belongings? Not staying here? At a gentle push from the Weyrwoman, her legs automatically started moving towards her quarters. As the swirling fog started to clear from her brain, she had the presence of mind to pack a glow, padded well with several items of clothing to protect it from breaking, and some food from the kitchen nearby. A hasty but heartfelt hug for the head cook, and Serra was on her way back to Kelth and her fate.

Kelth hadn't moved. The Weyrwoman was rubbing the eye ridges of her great queen and a small carisak was at her feet.

"I..I'm here, Weyrwoman".

"Very good" the Weyrwoman smiled at Serra. "Here, this is for you also. There is some oil for your dragonet, and numbweed and fellis for J'tan."

"J'tan?" The swirling fog was returning.

"Your Weyrlingmaster" said the Weyrwoman. "You must go now. And may fair winds always fill her wings."

"Where am I to go? I've never been out of the weyr. Which way do I head? Where do I find J'tan? I've never heard of him."

"My queen will take you. Trust her. She won't drop your dragonet."

"Kelth," said Serra. "Her name is Kelth."

"Kelth, then" smiled the Weyrwoman. "Climb aboard, young Serra, and take care of your beautiful Kelth."

Pushing her blanket roll up ahead of her and with carisak slung on her back, Serra climbed onto the great queen and secured herself. The queen sat back gently and picked up Kelth. And with an awkward three legged gait, she walked out of the Hatching Cavern and took flight.

A gentle spiralling climb out of the weyrbowl gave Serra the last glimpse of her home, the afternoon sun climbing the wall of the weyr, chased by evening shadows. It was all she could do to bite back a then all she knew was cold blackness. Mind numbing cold blackness. And the feeling that she was falling.

_Hope you all like it so far! I'm looking forward to revealing the 'mystery' next chapter. I am tossing up with several alternate endings..I may just post them all :D_

_Unique Fantasiser, thanks for your review I can't respond directly to you (for some reason). I'm trying to stay true to Ms McCaffrey's original books…for the longest time I thought Lessa had blonde hair! I've found her situations to be well described and the character's physical attributes less so. Though I will add tidbits of descriptions here and there in my story :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_Dragonriders of Pern is owned by Anne McCaffrey. I just wish I lived there…_

Black. Blacker. Blackest. The enormity of her first ride on a dragon, and her first trip between didn't even enter Serra's mind, with all the uncertainty and turmoil of the last half a candlemark. All she could think about was what the Weyrwoman had said. Where was she going? Who was J'tan? How had she managed to impress a dragon? Was she even going to live long enough to find out? Although the queen dragon had been careful not to let them fall, and the Weyrwoman had obliquely wished her a long life, it seemed to Serra that this situation in which she unenviously found herself with her beautiful Kelth was one of a lazy drudge sweeping dust under the carpet.

The watery sunshine trickled from behind several imposing storm clouds that hadn't been on the skyline when she left the weyr. But it was no later than it had been when she had left. Home. The golden queen slowly descended, circling over a green field. Serra could make out a grey dragon on the treeline, the lightly wooded area behind sheltering several huts. The land sloped down from the trees, a shallow decline across the field, to a narrow stream burbling its way through its rocky path perhaps a hundred dragonlengths away.

Awkwardly the queen backwinged furiously, to land ever so gently on three feet, gently lowering the still sleeping Kelth, before settling on all fours. An elderly man approached, and stopped to scratch the queen's eyeridges.

"Here now, lass, can you pass down your blanket roll?" His blue eyes sparkled with kindness, yet all Serra could do was to sit there, strapped in still, thoughts whirling through her head and tears misting her eyes .

"Come now, you need to be down here with your dragon. She'll be waking up soon, and by the time she's fed again, it'll be too dark to see your belongings. Besides, I need that fellis fairly quickly!"

Serra shook her head, more to chase away her thoughts than to shake off her tears. She unclipped the blanket roll and slid it down, to balance on her foot, while the old man climbed on the proffered leg to pull it down the rest of the way. Her fingers felt numb, but she managed to undo her straps and slide down the golden hide. Completely missing the leg step to land with an "oof" and crumpling to the seat of her breeches.

Kelth stirred, feeling Serra's shock on missing her footing and subsequent landing. Her golden mother snuffed a warm breath over her, and she curled up tighter once more.

The old man had put down the blanket roll and was now reaching out an arm for Serra to hold onto, to get back on her feet. She gripped his forearm, and rose to her feet.

"Welcome, dragonrider. I am J'tan, weyrlingmaster." He didn't relinquish her arm straight away, but instead studied her, taking in her dark hair, blue green eyes and pale skin, and finding they were of a similar, medium and unremarkable height.

She returned his gaze, noting his silver hair and clear blue eyes. 'Like my Granda's eyes' she thought. But what drew her gaze was his tanned and deeply lined skin. As if he had spent far too much time exposed to the weather.

Belatedly she replied "I'm Serra, cooks assistant. Now Kelth's rider."

Releasing her forearm, he turned to look up towards the trees. The grey dragon had taken a few steps back under the trees and had lain down. He turned to Serra.

"I'm sorry Serra, but Hithpeth can't help carry. She's asleep again." He smiled a sad smile. "Poor girl is getting close to her time, as I am to mine. I hope you don't mind walking up to the huts?"

She shook her head. "Not at all. You know, you shouldn't talk like that, as if you are about to die. My mother told me to always think positive thoughts."

"Oh, I'm not about to die, lass." He smiled again, but cheekily. "I'm just an awful lot closer to my time now than when I was your age! Hithpeth suffers from joint ail, so she feels the cooler weather in her bones, it just makes her feel older.. Right, now, time to get your little Kelth up. I dare say she is already too heavy for either of us to carry."

He turned his attention to the patiently waiting queen. "I thank you again for your service, O Beautiful One. Please give my warmest regards to your rider and her mate."

The big queen huffed in pleasure, before springing into the air, with several wingbeats of dirt and debris peppering the old man and young girl with her small dragon, before she disappeared _between_.

Together, Serra and J'tan carried the blanket roll up the gentle slope, followed slowly by a still sleepy Kelth. Passing under the low canopy of the trees, several bark shingle huts were revealed. An old looking firepit was outside two of the huts, with a cauldron large enough to feed ten people.

"Here lass, take this hut for now. It's small, and a little drafty. It has been many turns since the last weyrling used it. There's a sleeping mat resting on its side against one wall. Pull that down, and you can both sleep on it." J'tan lowered his end of the blanket roll outside one of the huts. "I must attend to Shaylee, then I'll be back to show you where the meat is for Kelth." He took the carisak from Serra and rummaged through it for the fellis, then shooed Serra inside the hut in the fading light.

The hut wasn't much. A compacted dirt floor, with a shallow depression about three times longer than Kelth, perhaps half that of a full grown dragon. Gaps in the shingle that allowed the dusk to shine through like so many stars in the night sky. A sleeping mat against the far wall, that emitted an all pervading dust cloud that choked the room when Serra pushed it over onto the floor. Coughing a little, Serra went outside while the dust settled again.

Kelth had found a rock near the campfire that had the appearance of a seat. A blocky rock with a depression worn through the top, curved just enough so that her small head rested comfortably on it with her little body folded up next to it. She was drifting off to sleep again, still digesting her first meal, although Serra was sure that Kelth did not look anywhere near as round as she had before.

_MY rock_ snarled a voice. A jade green dragon pounced out of the trees and pushed Kelth away in one swift movement. The new dragon curled protectively around rock and hissed at Kelth.

With a cry, Serra sprang to Kelth's side, pulling and tugging with all her might to drag the stunned dragonet away from the crazed jade green dragon. With one eye on the dragon, she checked every inch of Kelth's hide, while Kelth protested quietly that she wasn't really hurt, only a bit scared of the bigger dragon, and feeling the shock of being so rudely awakened.

The jade green dragon continued to sit curled around the rock, her only movement was to glare at Serra and Kelth. After a minute or so of the motionless tableau, the dragons eyes began to close, and a few breaths more and the dragon appeared to be asleep. Serra didn't know what to make of this. She quietly instructed Kelth to go into their hut, while she, Serra, stood guard. The dragon didn't stir as Kelth did as she was bid.

J'tan walked back into the clearing, to see Serra standing, tense, between Kelth and the jade green dragon.

"It's ok now" he called softly to Serra. "She is drowsy because I gave Shaylee a dose of fellis. She shouldn't be a threat."

"Threat?" said Serra. "THREAT? She threw Kelth off some stupid rock and stunned her!"

"Ah, the Rock" said J'tan. "All she cares about in the world is that rock. Please, give her another chance. And keep Kelth away from the rock. Tarnith won't bother her as long as she's not near the rock."

"Why should that help? Tarnith seems crazy. It is just a rock."

"Wait until you meet Shaylee. I'll introduce you tomorrow. She's much more tractable with a bit of fellis in her system." He quickly changed the topic. "Come along, and I'll show you where the meat is stored. Kelth will be getting hungry during the night, and you'll need to know where to find it."

_Apologies for the slightly slower than planned update, Life sneaks up on you when you're not looking! Thanks so much to divergary, Unique Fantasiser and GinnyStar, your reviews are greatly appreciated!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Acknowledgments to Anne McCaffrey for creating such a wonderful universe, and many thanks for letting me play here _

The days seemed to blur into each other at first. All she knew was feeding and oiling her beautiful dragonet, and feeding herself. Although that was more of a case of eating the food in the bowls that were thrust at her by the ageing weyrlingmaster before collapsing onto her dusty mattress. She couldn't tell exactly when, though, she started to have more stamina, not needing to rest every time her dragonet slept.

'_Probably_' she thought to herself drolly, _'since she's stopped waking every few hours in the night_'.

Not that the care was any easier.. there was more dragonet to feed, and more, much more, to clean and oil. But still, she felt vaguely uneasy about the amount of free time she had on her hands. The other rider, Shaylee, obviously did nothing around the place, being fellis drugged all the time. Not that she was out cold, but the random maniacal laughter that erupted from the hut that usually preceded her next hastily given dose made her think that maybe it was a good thing that her fellow rider was not involved in cooking or gathering firewood! And at least her dragon was either curled around 'her' rock, or off chasing leaves that fell from the trees, and no longer seemed interested in Kelth.

She decided to ask J'tan about her feelings of not doing something she felt she should. He brightened considerably and took her out to show her the traps that supplied their fresh meat, and the little tuber plot that supplemented the meal, and asked her if she would mind cooking for the four of them.

She readily agreed, though when she queried the numbers, he just smiled and lay his finger alongside his nose.

"She'll show herself when she's ready" was all he'd say. And sure enough, the four portions were consumed each day.

The extra hours required to butcher the animals caught in the traps, carefully skinning them and tanning their pelts, and the care of her dragonet smothered her uneasiness for a while longer, but it was not many sevendays before she was asking J'tan again.

"I'm not doing enough. With my dragon I mean".

J'tan looked over her beautiful dragon, and noted the healthy sheen to Kelth's hide. He looked at Serra's face.

"You're right", he said. "You need to teach her how to strengthen her wings, so she can hunt for her own food".

Kelth chose this moment to snuff at an iridescent trundlebug headed for the trees. Deciding it looked like food, she ate it_. Crunch, crunch_. Serra felt sick. Dead animals were one thing. But alive? And a bug? Mmmm, no.

Another season went by, and soon Kelth was able to hunt on her own. Not that she needed to go far, and she was still happy with eating the meat from the traps. Kelth mumbled something about liking the seasoning that her rider put on the food, although she preferred it raw and seasoned rather than cooked and seasoned.

_Which_ _is why you like to 'help' with dinner_, thought Serra ruefully_._

Kelth blew in her hair in reply.

It was while watching her dragon lifting more gracefully off the ground to go hunting, that it finally dawned on Serra exactly what she thought she should be doing.

"J'tan, J'tan! I've figured it out! You haven't shown me how to fly her between! Can you teach me? Please?"

J'tan looked at her, and shook his head.

"I'm sorry Serra. I'm not permitted to teach you."

Serra's face fell in disappointment.

"But how can Kelth do all the dragon-y things without being able to fly between?"

"She doesn't need to. All her needs are met right here."

"You mean, I'm never going anywhere else with her?" The shock of this conclusion, on top of the excitement she had just felt for finally figuring out what she felt she should be learning was too much for Serra. Hot tears of disappointment spilled onto her cheeks, and she dashed them viciously away. She walked off, through the trees, ignoring J'tan's efforts to call her back. She sat down, against the bole of a large tree, and watched her little green dragon hunt her food. After two small dragon-snack sized prey, Kelth flew back to her, and the two curled up together and watched the Dawn Sisters rise into the night sky before falling asleep, Serra comforted by Kelth's presence and her love.

The next day, J'tan came up to her.

"Serra, I know it's difficult to understand why I can't teach you. But please, listen to me."

Serra had turned away from J'tan, and he paused a moment to gently turn her face towards him.

"Please think. What would happen if the dragon got the wrong visualisation? Just look at her, she is already taller than you, and she does not know what information she needs from you to fly between. If she took one of your memories, and tried to go there, she would end up with the lower half of her body embedded in the earth. It would kill her instantly, and you would go out of your mind."

"So I'm better off than Shaylee then?" she asked, disbelievingly.

"Yes, because you're sane yet. The isolation is what drove Shaylee mad".

"Why aren't you affected then? Surely you've been out here all this time?" Damn her curiosity. But there was no one else to talk to.

"Yes, and no. I can fly between. Well, I used to be able to, when Hithpeth would take me. Our next flight together will be our last, between for all time. I came on this assignment because the fourth member of our group is my daughter. They were going to effectively exile her. For impressing a dragon when she shouldn't have. So I came to look after her, with the only condition from the Weyrleaders, that I never teach any female weyrlings how to fly between."

Serra's heart went out to this old man, who had sacrificed his family and friends for his daughter, whom he loved. She forgot about her own feeling of injustice from the previous night. And she listened as he told her about the struggles he'd had over the last thirty five turns he'd spent making this place habitable.

_A/N: Apologies for the rather delayed update – a combination of 'how to proceed' and 'I'm terrible at writing stories' coupled with 'child in hospital' and 'discovering AMC's 'Catalyst' and 'Catacombs'' has kind of gotten in the way of this chapter. And yes, the trundlebug is a kefer-ka variant. Though at this stage, that particular story thread is not going to go anywhere. Probably only another one or two chapters to go..feel free to suggest ideas for the ending!_


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